No rest for the wicked, or me

Mother came up to see me tonight, rather late in the evening for her at this time of year. I had actually already given up on the thought of seeing her today.

She took me out on to the barn porch, which unfortunately still let the fine mist that was coming down to blow on my face.

 Unnnhhh... I'll just stand farther back here. 

Oh, wait, I can lick the rain...

OK, this kind of isn't fun at all. Why are you taking my picture when it's all dark and gross out? And I am wearing the washed out pinkish looking halter, and you have it adjusted all slovenly, Mother. 

Can't I just go eat dinner?

Unless... wait, are there cookies involved?

I just want one. Better yet,  two. Cookies aren't too much to ask, are they?

Then Mother decides that my prominent brow ridge is interesting. Oh, by the way, look at how well my mane recovered from last year's bush-hogging. Some might never guess...

She started talking about my bony protuberance and how people who say that that cartoon horse shouldn't have eyebrows need to look at my head.

 I have no idea what she is talking about.

Seriously, Mother, can we just GET ON with whatever you are planning to do?

Oh, no, there's more fiddling with the camera, and settings.

OK, that flash is just a little too bright. I am now blind in my right eye.

Come on, this is boring!

She did give me a few Herballs after she picked my hooves and curried me everywhere. Then Mother gave me a nice (but all too brief) massage. She made my dinner, which was particularly perfect... It almost smells like apple pie with cinnamon while it is soaking. Yummm!

 And I got one Mrs. Pastures cookie and about 5 or 6 Herballs as I went out for my hay, so life is pretty good... even if I did have to endure some bizarre mid-night photo fest.